


everything we've ever learned

by thimble



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Gen, Post-Fire Emblem Fates: Birthright
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-07-18 15:30:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16121417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thimble/pseuds/thimble
Summary: "I know you'll blow the world away," she'd say, taking no small pleasure in his reddened ears. "Without anybody's help."(Without mine, she'd keep to herself.)Camilla and Leo learn a few lessons in grief, together and alone.





	everything we've ever learned

**Author's Note:**

> written for [ties that bind: an fe siblings zine](https://fesiblingszine.tumblr.com/).

****_ to live in this world _

_ you must be able _

_ to do three things: _

 

**i.**

_ to love what is mortal _

 

He's nervous, she can tell. 

It's imperceptible, if one doesn't know any better, however plainly it's written in the tense line of his shoulders, the tight press of his lips. It's unbecoming too, which is why he's going to great lengths to hide it, as expected of a prince of Nohr.

As expected of her baby brother. 

He's always been good at that—at hiding. Though not from battle and never from duty, even she has had trouble discerning how he truly felt. His books might as well be armor, his intellect like a wall erected around his heart.

(Then again, maybe she hasn't been watching as closely as she thought.)

She's watching now. And he's nervous, she can tell.

But his knees don't tremble when he kneels, nor does his posture waver when he bows his head. The crown is placed on him and he doesn't crumble—he doesn't do what she might have done under its heavy weight.

It's with guilt that remembers the day she asked him to take her place, on a throne she wants nothing to do with after all the pain it's wrought. She's not built to rule, she'd said. A family was what she wanted all along; it's what she still wants, now that theirs is gone.

Dress it up as she may with pretty words, it couldn't been anything other than running away.

"Are you certain?" he'd asked, in a joking tone that didn't quite reach fruition. "I can't exactly return the crown."

"Of course," she'd replied, smiling in his stead. "It will suit you better than it ever will me."

And when he stands and faces the crowd, chin lifted high and gaze wise beyond his years, he proves her right.

She had hoped to slip from the room unnoticed, but hesitant fingers catch on her sleeve, and she finds herself looking into the eyes of Hoshido's youngest princess. 

"You're not staying, Camilla?"

Ever so kind. Ever so much like—

"He'll be fine without me," she says gently. Sakura's cheeks flush pink and her hand falls away as she nods. Not with understanding, but something like acceptance. 

"Enjoy the festivities, darling," adds Camilla, and it's with pride and that ever present guilt that she dares to glance at Leo in all his glory, before she goes through the door.

 

* * *

  
  
**ii.**

_ to hold it _

_ against your bones knowing _

_ your own life depends on it _

 

She has always likened him to a hurricane.

If Xander was a fortress and Elise a star, then Leo is a storm—persistent, dedicated, and when he puts his mind to it, unstoppable. The opportunity to tell him so has never presented itself, but were she given the chance...

"I know you'll blow the world away," she'd say, taking no small pleasure in his reddened ears. "Without anybody's help."

( _ Without mine _ , she'd keep to herself.)

She tells him none of this, as tempting as it is to embarrass the new king like no one else can. She tells him nothing at all, because kings have little time for their older sister's teasing, or anything else weighing on her mind.

(The crown is heavy enough; the crown she should've worn.)

Whenever she visits Father, and Xander, and Elise, she's alone. They'd quite like this place she and Leo had chosen for them, far away from where the fighting had been.

"I think," Leo had said, words ever measured with care. "If we put some distance between them and the castle, they wouldn't have to be under its shadow. What do you think, Camilla?"

"What a perfect idea," was all she could've replied. 

And it was—it is. Even now, whatever sunlight is able to pierce Nohr's thick gray clouds shines directly on their engraved names. This light also better illuminates flowers, freshly plucked and gently laid before the tombstones, flowers she doesn't remember leaving from her last visit. 

_ Oh _ , is all she could've uttered, this soft breath of hers swiftly swallowed by the wind.

She promised she'd watch him more closely, this time. But when he'd raised his voice in what should've been diplomatic meetings, or when they'd locked eyes and his seemed to be beckoning her over, she'd done nothing at all.

She has always likened him to a hurricane; never did she realize that he'd be part of the wreckage.  
  


 

* * *

 

**iii.**

_ and, when the time comes to let it _

_ go, _

_ to let it go. _

 

The next time she visits her family, she's no longer alone.

The king of Nohr—her baby brother—stands without his crown today. His head is unadorned and bowed, his gaze intent on names carved out in stone. In his hand is an arrangement of flowers, yet to be laid on the ground.

"No hand is going to reach up from the ground and grab your ankle," she says as she walks closer, her own arms carrying flowers. He startles and looks at her, though he seems at a loss for even his careful words. 

She continues, "I described something frightfully dreadful, but you'd no doubt not even flinch. Perhaps you'd even like to study the phenomenon. Wouldn't it be wonderful, though, if they were somehow to come back?"

Now, he speaks, though his tone is a mirror with a crack in the middle. "Camilla..."

"But they're not coming back," she says, through the the burn in her eyes, the tightness in her chest. Gently, gently, she continues. "I knew it, but I didn't want it to be true. And I was a fool to think I was the only one."

He's quiet, at first, then what would have trickled out on any other day comes rushing through. "I lost them. Then I felt I was losing myself, walking in Father's footsteps and standing in Xander's shadow. I didn't—I don't want to lose you too."

"Oh, darling." Her smile is soft, and tastes of salt. "That will never, ever happen." 

It's a bold thing to promise after everything they'd been through, but she's not about to take it back. "You're all I have left," she adds, feeling the curve of her mouth waver and fighting against it. "It's about time I acted like it, don't you agree?"

Again, he bows his head, and as she eases the flowers from his grasp to lay all of them down at their feet, she pretends, one last time, not to see his tears.

**Author's Note:**

> poem excerpts taken from mary oliver's 'in blackwater woods.'


End file.
